Miscellanies: Prose and Verse, Volumen2

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S. Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington, 1885
 

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Página 141 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Página 275 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
Página 135 - I am thane of Cawdor : If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, • Against the use of nature...
Página 63 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprisoned in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world...
Página 5 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks: methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam...
Página 135 - My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man, that function Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is, But what is not.
Página 5 - ... methinks I see her as an eagle, mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam, — purging and unsealing her long-abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance...
Página 138 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Página 106 - I'd divide, And burn in many places ; on the top-mast. The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, Then meet, and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-out-running were not.
Página 131 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale...

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